


Between the Lines

by Metalmark



Category: Resident Evil
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance, Time Travel, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-03-30
Updated: 2011-03-30
Packaged: 2017-10-17 09:50:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/175557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Metalmark/pseuds/Metalmark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based loosely on the movie, 'The Butterfly Effect.' "It is said that altering one thing changes the entire ending result." In which Claire finds out the cost of tweaking with destiny is much greater than she can ever imagine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between the Lines

  
**Between The Lines**   


_The Butterfly Effect (def.):_ 1\. Idea that a butterfly’s wings might create tiny changes in the atmosphere that may ultimately alter the path of a tornado or delay, accelerate or even prevent the occurrence of a tornado in a certain location; the flapping wing represents a small change in the initial condition of the system (compare: domino effect).  
2\. A metaphor that encapsulates the concept of sensitive dependence on initial conditions in chaos theory; namely that small differences in the initial condition of a dynamical system may produce large variations in the long term behavior of the system.  
________________________________________  


  
_“Leave unsaid unspoken; eyes wide shut, unopened. You and me always between the lines; between the lines.” –Between the Lines; Sara Bareilles._

 _&._

Darkness. She could only see darkness of the night surrounding her. It seemed to consume her in its thickness. She looked at her hand that was in front of her face and could barely make out the faint glow of her peachy skin. It appeared to almost give off luminosity. Why was she in a cemetery this late? She could make out the trees and gray tombstones. Suddenly something shifted in the atmosphere. It grew more chilling; there was a bone chilling sensation in the air. The auburn haired woman rubbed her arms in a vain attempt to stop the hairs on her arms from standing.

 _What is this?_

The darkness was lighting up to more of a misty atmosphere. There was fog instead as she could barely make out a figure approaching in the distance. Its movements were slow, stalking towards her alarmingly like something out of a horror movie. She reached down alarmed trying to retrieve something that wasn’t there—her weapon; the good ole’ trusty knife that was Chris’s from his S.T.A.R.S days. Claire upon realizing she was weaponless took a few cautious steps back. Sweat began to trickled down the sides of her forehead and she could feel her heart pacing quickly in her chest as if it would jump out in any minute. This was definitely not good.

The figure was appearing through the fog and Claire squinted her blue eyes trying to make it out. She could only make out the bright red-orange messy strands of hair that reminded her of fire; then it was gray eyes that reminded her of a mirror; plenty of water in his personality. She was staring at the body of someone she thought was gone for good.

“S-Steve….?” She found herself muttering in disbelief.

No, Steve Burnside was gone. He had been for ten years now. She saw him die in Antarctica.

She found her legs walking forward subconsciously despite her heart giving off warning signs. “Steve!” Her voice was more assertive now; her heart wanting so desperately to believe.

She was closer than she was before. She could clearly make out his face. His boyish face was still the same as she remembered, shaped with the youth of his seventeen years. It was a mix between childishness and growing manhood features; defining jaw, clean skin free of facial hair, pink full lips. His eyes, however, were a different story she noted freezing in place. Before his eyes always seemed to radiate his courage, brashness, immaturity, even loneliness—but overall definite liveliness despite his past, and yet now that she was staring at those same eyes they radiated no such thing; these eyes were blank, cool and dare she say dark.

“S-Steve?” She questioned tripping over her words slightly. Her eyebrows furrowed worriedly and slightly alarm. No, something didn’t feel right at all.

“You…said we would escape together.” His voice was deeper than she remembered.

“I wanted that. I didn’t want to have to leave you behind!” Claire cried out clutching her hands into fists. She clutched them so tightly into her palms that her nails seemed to seep into her skin drawing blood. It was a numbing pain.

The red-haired boy’s eyes were hidden under his bangs and Claire spotted his lips draw upwards slowly into a frightening smile.

“Right,” He murmured acidly and turned around.

“ _Steve!_ ” Claire exclaimed his name exasperated reaching out and grabbing his shoulder. She froze upon touching him feeling the coldness radiate from his body despite his clothing. She drew her hand back stepping back horrified as his body suddenly took on another form. There was a loud sound of squishing and bone cracking. She could smell the thick stench of rotting flesh in the air and it was so overwhelming that she chocked on her breath wanting to throw up. Her hands went up to her mouth as she coughed trying to assuage her stomach. When she looked up she spotted the deformed green skinned tyrant that Steve had been forced to become back on the Antarctic base due to the T-Veronica virus. Veins popped out and showed clearly on parts of his body sickly. The great big red eye in his body looked at her without so much a blink.

“No…” She shook her head taking a few steps back.

 _Not this again._

She couldn’t endure the image of the Steve Burnside she had known alter to this; an experiment of Alexia’s—her toy.

 _But…it’s still Steve. He’s still in there._

Claire stopped in her tracks. Even when she saw the monster approach her with a giant axe in his hands she didn’t move. She was tired of running. She had to stand her ground. She had to--

 _Save him…._

“Steve please. You’re right, I didn’t keep my promise. You did but I didn’t. I’m sorry. I wish I could change what happened.” She pleaded.

Drops of water slid down the side of her cheeks and it was then that Claire noticed it was her tears. It had been so long since she had cried that it felt as if she had forgotten how to cry. Now the tears fell freely and she could do nothing to stop them.

The auburn girl looked up despite the tears blurring her vision slightly to see the raising axe. Its silver blade glittered hauntingly. She could never hurt him—tyrant or not. When the blade raced down meeting her flesh—the agonizing pain, the feeling of her skin on fire, the ripping of flesh, the heavy smell of iron due to the splattering of her own blood, was nothing to the pain she felt at knowing that she failed him.

________________________________________

Claire woke up sitting up quickly gasping for air harshly as if she had just dashed a one-mile jog. Her chest heaved up and down with every pant and she could feel the wetness of her sweat clinging to her clothes and bed sheets. It was still clearly dark outside as viewed from the bedroom apartment window. She groaned and slumped back in her bed wiping some of the sweat on her forehead.

“Just a nightmare,” she said to herself in a whisper as if trying to reassure herself.

It certainly didn’t feel like just a nightmare. The emotions, the coldness, the pain, the darkness, the descriptiveness of Steve’s face lingering in her mind so close, so vivid—it felt all too real.

It had been ten years since that all by chance meeting with Steve Burnside on Rockfort Island with the craziness of the Ashford family. She thought she was over it; over blaming herself constantly. ‘Survivor’s guilt’ her brother had called it. She gave a wry smile at the thought. How many times had she faced near death only to come out still alive? There were too many to count. Too many deaths burned in her memory as well.

Claire glanced at the clock on the desk by her bedside noting the time. It was only a quarter past six in the morning. Still very early but she doubted she’d be able to go back to sleep at any rate. She tossed the covers aside getting out of bed and heading towards the living room. The ivory white nightgown clung to the curves of her body. Her apartment was small and appeared neat but it was merely because it was empty. She hadn’t wanted many commodities seeing as her line of work called for her to travel most of the time. It was easier this way.

The auburn haired woman slipped into the kitchen setting up the coffee maker and once it started making the hissing noises headed into back in the living room sitting on the brown tanned couch. She grabbed the remote placed on the wooden coffee table in front with smooth wood and glass. She flipped through the channels settling on the news seeing as that was really all that was on this early. She had little use for news. The news displayed a false sense of normality that she had long ago realized was unreal. There were never any showings of the flesh eating zombies with dead like pale skin ripped and foul smelling odor like rotting flesh that she and her friends had faced. Such events were quickly hidden under the table due to controversy. The Harvardville events were faint in her mind. It was like it would never really end. There was always an outbreak of the sort; more bloodshed, more lives altered drastically, more lives lost.

Claire felt the pounding in her head and she rubbed her temples soothingly. She had been having several headaches lately. Chris and Jill had expressed evident worry but she merely brushed aside their concerns saying they were nothing. At times they got to be unbearable, however, like a cinderblock was balanced on her head. Lack of sleep, slower eating patterns, and stress were the cause of them. She dared not voice these things to her older brother. He would over exaggerate as usual.

The news flashed stories about crime rates, kidnappings, careers, weather forecasting and other stories. And for a change everything seemed normal for the most part. It had been a couple of months since Chris took down Wesker and after that there had been no outbreaks or danger. She wondered if it truly was a time of peace or they were being lured in a false sense of security.

The coffee maker made a loud beeping sound indicating the coffee being done then. Claire stood up walking over and pouring herself a cup. She put in little milk and sugar despite her not being a big fan of black and liked coffee more on the sweet side. She couldn’t even remember when she started even liking coffee seeing as in her youth she hated the strong, caffeinated liquid. Days of nonstop paperwork and even longer nights probably was what stirred the sudden habit. She headed back to the couch and sipped the coffee, her mind absent. Suddenly the pain came back in her head more vigorously. She winced holding a hand to her head placing her coffee down.

 _Thump—thump—thump._

It was a slow, painful throbbing in her head. The older woman quickly headed to the bathroom turning on the lights and opening the cabinet. She searched through the items rustling about until she finally found what she was looking for. She found the pill container and opened it popping two pills in her mouth swallowing with a cup of water that was already in the bathroom. She placed her arms on either side of the white sink resting her weight on them. Her eyes closed as she took a slow, deep breath. In—and out.

She opened her eyes and looked up at the mirror ahead of her. She looked oddly pale even to herself in the lightening. Her blue eyes were bright and stood out even more due to the contrast of her light skin. Her reddish-brown strands of hair were loose from her typical ponytail, a few strands framing the oval shape of her face while the other cascaded past her shoulders. She didn’t like the look and quickly placed her hair up with a rubber band feeling odd without the style. It probably seemed strange to others for her to go so many years without a different hairstyle using the ordinary ponytail style for as long as she could remember. It was something of her appearance that always stayed the same and it was relieving because as she stared back at the reflection, the woman staring back looked completely different. She had changed throughout the years; she was no longer the somewhat naive girl she had been back in her youthful years where she impulsively (and rashly) rushed into Raccoon city alone on her bike in search of her older brother only to find herself stumbling across a nightmare beyond explainable. No amount of valor, strong headedness, determination, or Chris’s teachings had prepared her for that.

Claire grimaced slightly and pushed herself away walking out of the room turning out the light on the way out. She returned back to her coffee and the news casting. She glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. It read seven. The sun was already rising in the sky now. She decided getting out of the apartment would do her some good. She dressed in a plain black t-shirt with tight fitting blue jeans, shoes and a brown belt in place. Claire was never one for make-up so she didn’t bother with placing any one. She grabbed her keys and a simple brown purse and headed out the door locking it on her way out. Her room was upstairs so she had to walk down the long set of stairs (although she could have just taken an elevator) before heading outside. The air was crisp and warm. A set of birds chirping beautifully was heard in the background. There was little action aside—cars driving, people passing here and there.

Her head definitely felt better now. The pain subsided for the moment. She’d have to ask her friend for more of the medication. Strangely enough the pills couldn’t be found in any convenience store. When inquired about, Claire’s friend had told her it was an over-the-seas medication that was only found in foreign cities that he had found when visiting. The answer was fair enough. There was a sudden ringing sound and Claire dug into her purse pulling out her phone. Her lips twitched upwards into a smile as she answered it.

“Well, well, you’re actually up early for a change.” She commented playfully mocking.

“Ha, ha, very funny Claire. I actually have to get up early sometimes. We can’t all be choosers.” Chris remarked. He sounded tired. She doubted he had just woken up and decided to call her. He had probably stayed up all night with work.

“Although I love such pleasantries with you Chris,” Claire replied back wittingly still with a smile, “I can’t help but be suspicious this time.”

“Untrusting of your older brother?” He was teasing her back as much as she was. The two were too much alike for their own good.

“What’s going on?” She inquired curiously raising a brow.

“We’re back in town. I thought we could have breakfast together.”

“By we’re, I assume you mean you and Jill hm?”

There was a pause and a clearing of a throat before Chris responded, “Well yeah...”

Claire held back a giggle. It was painfully obvious even to her that the relationship between her brother and Jill Valentine went far beyond partnership. She wondered why they even bothered to try to hide it. A part of her wanted to push them together already but the other part knew that she couldn’t overstep the boundaries the two had placed with their partnership. It would more than likely complicate things instead of aid. She got the feeling that the two were edging slowly into things and more than likely in the end fix things themselves. With the previous round of events the two certainly did seem even closer. The period of time Chris thought he lost Jill for good probably was a wake-up call for him.

“Of course.” She agreed softly.

It certainly would put her in high spirits again and possibly distract her from the raging thoughts in her head that wouldn’t desist.

“Let’s meet up at the small dinner down the street. You know the one I’m talking about right?”

“Yes, what time?”

There was a brief pause and Claire assumed he used the time to quickly glance at his watch. “How about in fifteen minutes?”

Claire nodded but realized then that Chris couldn’t see the action. “Okay, see you then.”

“See you.”

Claire ended the call and closed her phone. She stared at it absently with a smile on her face. It had been awhile since she had spent some time with Chris and Jill. The time they spent always served as enjoyable. It was probably the only time she didn’t worry about work or think about the nightmares she had faced (and still faced although now they were more internal than external). She continued to walk along the sidewalk. She would more than likely reach the restaurant before the others but she didn’t mind waiting.

A few people smiled politely at her along the way and she returned the action. Her feet made a soft clatter sound when the heel met with the cement. Claire spotted the diner up ahead and walked inside. The diner was trendy and simple. The warm colors adorned the style of it. There were small smooth brown wood windows adorned on the walls. A waitress with short black hair to her shoulders and sparkling blue eyes spotted Claire and smiled heading over to her.

“For one?” She asked.

“Three.”

The waitress nodded and gestured for Claire to follow her. She was leaded to a table with four chairs set up near a window towards the side. Claire took a seat near the wall.

“Can I start you off with a drink?”

Claire noticed the girl had a hint of a Spanish accent in her voice. She had always enjoyed different languages but unfortunately her knowledge barely exceeded a minimal of French she had learned in high school.

“I’ll have water with lemon thank you.” Claire answered.

When the waitress left, Claire drew her attention out the window. She spotted some people passing by chattering with companions if they were with any. It was a typical normal day.

Normal, she mused on the word. The word sounded strange. She froze when she saw a young girl pass by with short blonde hair and a red headband in place.

 _Sherry?_

Upon closer inspection, Claire realized that it wasn’t Sherry. She sighed and brushed a few loose strands that had fallen in her face away. Sherry’s current status was unknown. Leon had told her that she had suddenly disappeared years ago from under the radar and her whereabouts weren’t known. She wondered briefly if the people of Umbrella had caught up with her somehow and even though the company was taken down by Chris and Jill, Sherry was still somehow captive somewhere.

 _If only I hadn’t left her alone back in Raccoon city… But if she hadn’t left her then she would never have run into Chris and met Steve in Rockfort._

Her thoughts trailed then to a certain sandy haired man whom she had met in Raccoon city.

 _

I wonder how Leon is doing nowadays.

_

The two talked every now and then and when Leon was in town he made sure to drop in and see all of them. They being together certainly brought back plenty of memories, and they certainly did have one big thing in common: they had all survived the biohazard nightmare. The last time Leon had talked to Claire which was a couple months back he told her that he would inform her if he was around again. He was more than likely overworked with his agent duties.

“Oh just like James Bond hm?” She had teased him about his career.

His response had been a roll of his eyes that reminded her of how boyish he appeared when they first meet; boyish and completely inexperienced but all too willingly to lend an extra hand to a stranger. “Hardly. It’s not a secret that I’m an agent Claire.”

“But the good-looking woman magnet Caucasian agent is still applicable.”

He had given her a blank look but she had noticed the twitch of his lips trying to fight off a smile. He was too serious for his own good. At times it could be quite difficult to talk to him. At that time the waitress appeared and placed down a glass with water, ice and a lemon balanced on the side. She slipped down a straw on the table as well.

“Would you like to order or wait?” She asked kindly picking at the black small apron around her waist absently.

“I’ll wait thanks.”

Claire dropped the lemon in her cup and started smashing it with her straw so that the juice from the lemon was mixed into the water. Her friends always asked her why she didn’t just ask for lemonade; Claire’s response: she was being “resourceful.” She felt a sudden arm placed around her shoulders and her body stiffened in response. She grabbed the said hand on her shoulder spinning it around in an uncomfortable position. A sound of a familiar male grunting was heard and she instantly released her hold.

“Jesus, Chris! Don’t sneak up on people like that!” Claire chided. She thought he was a pervert or something.

Chris Redfield grimaced flicking his wrist. He was all brute strength but even he had to admit that even hurt a tad bit. It didn’t help that most of Claire’s self-defense training he had taught her after all. “Dully noted.”

Claire grinned standing up and hugging her older brother. His arms wrapped around her in response gently returning the embrace. It was a bit awkward considering the amount of muscle he was sprouting. She took a step back eyeing him a quizzical brow.

“Still on steroids? That stuff will kill ya, you know.” She teased unable to help herself.

Chris scoffed rubbing his thumb on the bridge of his nose, “I’m not. Thanks so much for the concern.”

Jill laughed in good humor along with Claire. Claire then turned her attention to Jill quickly giving her a hug as well. The female ex-S.T.A.R.S member had her hair dyed back to brown and was cut to her traditional short haircut that was almost a bob. She had looked good as a blonde but being a brunette just suited her better. Her light colored eyes were bright and Claire figured that she was content being at Chris’s side again.

“They tested him already for a drug test. He passed.” Jill declared with an amused glint in her eyes.

Chris looked down at her petite form. It wasn’t missed to Claire the quick run over his eyes did over Jill’s body. “You sound almost surprised Jill.” He said dryly.

Her lips twitched slightly upwards although she was trying to obviously hide it. “Who me?”

“This body here is pure, unadulterated muscle.”

The two females rolled their eyes at his vanity even if he was obviously just teasing.

“Sit down. I was just thinking about what I was going to get.” Claire gestured.

The three sat down in the chairs. Claire sat across from them, her chair somewhere in between and Chris and Jill sat side-by-side. The menus were still placed in front of the chairs waiting to be opened.

“You always get the same thing normally.” Chris remarked opening his menu, his dark eyes searching through the items in the menu.

“I’m a creature of habit, guilty as charged.” Claire responded back with a smile.

It wasn’t like she came to this restaurant all the time; most of the time the visits were reserved for when Chris and Jill were in town. Coming to the diner without them seemed out of balance.

“I wonder where she gets it from, Mr. BLT.” Jill interjected with a knowing look.

Chris’s lips pressed together. He was known to always get the bacon, lettuce, and tomato burger. Sue him for enjoying a good, hearty burger (hearty seeing as the amount of calories bacon gave off weren’t exactly healthy).

“You two are always teaming up on me when you both are together.” He grumbled.

Claire glanced up at Jill briefly winking at her and then turning attention to her brother who was sulking silently at the moment. “It’s because we both obviously love you Chris.”

“Sure, sure,” He mumbled back but there was lightness in his voice and he appeared sort of pleased at the comment. Her said comment included Jill after all who sure didn’t seem to be complaining or correcting Claire at the moment like he expected her to.

Jill was looking through her menu as well, her slim fingers pointing to a particular menu. “The pasta looks delectable.”

“The Fettuccini Alfredo?” Claire questioned.

“Yep.”

“Yum. I think I might want that too.”

Chris laughed then, “I thought you we a ‘creature of habit?’” He said using air quotations upon saying the creature of habit part to mock her.

“Even I am entitled to a change here and there Christopher.”

The grimace that came across Chris’s face upon hearing his full name was fully noticed. He made it apparent to everyone that he very much disliked being called by his full name. When Barry tried to call him by it, Chris had given him such a dark glare (and combined with the intimidation of his fully muscled body) the older man dared not to try it again. Of course, this time it was his _beloved_ sister calling him it and well she had privileges—Jill too but he’d never admit it out loud.

The waitress conveniently showed up at that moment noticing all three of them seated. She pulled out a small pad and pen ready to write down their orders.

“Are you three ready now?” She asked with a smile. She glanced over briefly at Jill and then her eyes rested on Chris for a few seconds with something like interested appraisal before looking away. Chris was attractive for someone in his late thirties after all. It didn’t come off as a surprise another woman was showing mild interest in him albeit this said woman was probably twice younger. She was barking up the wrong tree though if she thought she had a chance with Chris especially due to the beautiful brunette beside him whose lips were somewhat pursed having noticed the waitress’s attention.

“Yes, I’ll take the pasta; the Fettuccini Alfredo dish.” Claire spoke up closing her menu and holding it out.

The pretty, young waitress nodded quickly jotting it down and taking the menu under her arm. She turned her attention to Jill and Chris then waiting for them to answer.

“Same for me. I’ll have a diet coke as well.” Jill responded.

There was more writing down and everyone looked at Chris. He appeared to have dazed for a few minutes and then came back to life. “Oh…yeah, I’ll have the BLT meal, thanks; with water.”

The two tried to hold down their smiles.

The waitress nodded writing it down and grabbing the rest of the menus. “I’ll be back shortly then.” She said in an enthusiastic voice.

When she was gone, Claire looked at her older brother amused. She then glanced over at Jill who appeared to be very interested in staring at her hands. Was she honestly self-conscious of a young girl in her twenties? The thought sounded ridiculous—to Claire at least.

“That waitress was so giving you the look Chris.” Claire pointed out.

Jill looked up at Claire with her lips pursed. _Sorry Jill,_ Claire thought with an apologetic smile in her direction.

Chris rubbed his hand on his chin thoughtfully. His fingers ran over the bristles of his facial hair that was growing back again. He would have to shave again in a couple of days. “Oh really? She’s kind of young for me…” He darted a curious glance at Jill. “And anyways, I prefer brunettes.”

Jill glanced over at him quizzically and he winked playfully at her before turning his attention to Claire. Their flirting was always a normal thing. It was all within limits, of course. Jill rolled her eyes in response but the smile on her lips said something else along with the sudden glow in her cheeks. If only Chris wasn’t so dense…

“How have your headaches been Claire?” Jill asked then concerned.

“Better.” She lied and instantly felt horrible for doing so. She didn’t want to worry them over her. They had enough things to deal with after all with work.

“That’s good. I’m sure work can be stressing but you should try to take it easy.”

Claire nodded taking a sip of her drink.

“Where’s that one guy we saw last time with you?” Chris asked then.

“Overseas. He was just a classmate for the last time Chris. Must you always be so overprotective?”

Chris grinned, “Just one of the duties of being an older brother.”

“And I bet annoying is one of those said duties too.” Claire mumbled.

“Hm, I think you’re right. I have to check the list again.”

Claire almost forgot how exasperating her brother could be at times. Almost.

________________________________________

It was a little before noon when Claire arrived home. She was surprised at how quickly the hour and a half flew by. She entered her apartment closing the door behind her. Her phone began to ring and she shuffled through her purse pulling it out. The number was a private number she noted suspiciously.

“Claire Redfield speaking.”

“Claire, hey.” A warm male voice greeted.

“Oh hey Blake. I wasn’t expecting you to call so soon. How’s it overseas?” She asked in a conversational tone.

“Great, there are a lot of oceans out here. I’ll send you a postcard. How are you headaches coming along? Is the medicine I gave you helping?”

Claire held the phone to her ear with one hand and was attempting to take off her shoes with the other. “Yes, I owe you one for finding them for me. They’re a life saver.”

“Sure thing honey.” There was a pause and she could hear another voice in the background. “I have to go. I’ll talk to you later alright?”

“Uh-huh, bye.”

“Bye.”

Claire placed her phone down and took off her other shoe. She dropped them by the door and stretched her arms out tiredly. She might as well get back to her paperwork. Her blue eyes darted then to the picture frame on the drawer. It was an old family picture. Happy faces radiated back in the photo. She grabbed the picture frame wiping a bit of dust off the glass with her hand. She missed her parents so much but she was relieved that she had at least Chris and he wasn’t taking away from her too. She didn’t know what she would do if she lost him as well. Her expression turned wistful as she stared upon the photo. If only she had stopped her parents from leaving that night; they would still be here. She suddenly wished that she had a photo of Sherry and Steve too to keep around. She wanted something tangible to remind her of them; something other than her memories that could easily fade away in the back of her mind.

“I wish I did things different so those things didn’t have to happen to you all.” She mumbled sadly.

She wished she could have stopped what had happened to them. Her parents and Steve wouldn’t have died and Sherry would still be here. They could have all been a family together since Sherry and Steve had lost theirs. Claire shut her eyes taking a deep breath and then placing the frame back where it was.

 _If wishes were fishes…_ She thought sardonically.

The auburn haired woman headed to the kitchen then to grab a glass of water. Her throat suddenly felt so dry. Her hands pulled a glass from the cupboard and she began to pour water in it. She picked up the cup to her throat and the cold liquid slid down her throat. Suddenly, she felt a sharp jolt of pain in her head. She gasped in response and dropped the glass which shattered into a million pieces once it hit the ground. The sound of glass breaking echoed in the apartment.

 _Thump—thump—thump!_

Claire held her hands to her head in pain. The painful thumping was back and it was suddenly more painful than ever. It felt like someone was stabbing her in the head over and over. She stumbled quickly into the bathroom digging into the cabinets making a mess in search. She finally found the container and she swallowed two pills with water. Afterwards, she slumped onto the ground breathing heavily, her knees curled up as she rested her chin on them and hugged her legs to her chest.

Her head throbbed and then it stopped. She placed a hand gingerly to her temples in surprise. Her eyes flickered then and the pain came back full throttle; the stabbing feeling twice worse than before. She moaned in pain and shut her eyes trying to calm down her sudden racing heart.

Just count and it’ll go away. She thought to herself trying to distract herself from the pain. It felt then like someone or something was trying to rip her head from her body and she screamed.

 _One…two…three…!_

And then she blackened out.

________________________________________

“Claire…Claire…honey, wake up.”

Claire moaned in response, her eyelids twitching. Her eyelids slowly began to open then and her vision was blurred. She could barely make out the blurred bodies in front of her.

“Claire, are you alright?” A kind and soft female voice asked. It held a motherly tone that made her feel safe.

 _

That sounds….familiar.

_

Her vision cleared then and she froze upon making out the figures. Her mother and father were kneeled by her side staring at her concerned. Chris was behind them looking at her too except he wasn’t the massive muscle head she knew. No, he appeared now like a growing teenager. She gasped and looked down at her body which was supposed to be shaped into that of a woman’s but it wasn’t. She was a little girl.

 _What…is….going on? What is this?_

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came up based on (yes for those who knew right away) the chaos theory as well as the movie (called the butterfly effect). This story takes place a few months after the events of Resident Evil 5. There are many references to the animated Degeneration movie as well. Beware of spoilers for both as well as spoilers of Code Veronica (obviously) and The Darkside Chronicles; the two are mixed in Claire’s memories (some dialogue is copied from The Darkside Chronicles).


End file.
